


Simple Things

by allegheny



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: 2019 MLB AL Wildcard Game, 2020 Spring Training, Character Study, Gen, Names and places, Oakland Athletics, Spring Training, the pitcher catcher relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22650679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegheny/pseuds/allegheny
Summary: What did you learn from your time in the solitary cell of your mind?Sean lobs the ball at Sean and imagines he's playing catch with himself.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Simple Things

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be shippy and was going to have KD in it but I kinda forgot. have this instead

Sean lobs the ball at Sean and imagines he's playing catch with himself.  
So, he's not on a backfield at HoHoKam Stadium in Mesa. He's in his backyard in Wanatah throwing the ball at the white siding wall of his house. Catches it in his glove on the rebound. Goes again.  
Names are strange things. They're place, they're family. How does he know where he is without a name? How does he know who he is without a name?  
He's been thinking about this his whole life, really. When you're a Samoan kid growing up in rural Indiana, names are the kind of thing you have time to think about between throwing a baseball at a wall and dragging your feet to the combination Subway-Speedway-Burger King.  
He'd think about how all of his name is N's, and E's, and A's, except for his initials. Like his initials have a whole life of their own, and the rest of his name is a whole other person. And maybe that person is hiding behind the initials, like a mask, or maybe the initials don't want much to do with all the N's and the E's and the A's. Maybe there's too many of them.  
Well, that's not counting his middle name. If he's counting his middle name, his initials spell yet another name: SAM. And who knows who Sam is or could be.  
So there are a lot of people in his name.  
There are also a lot of people _with_ his name and they're all related to him.  
And that's pretty cool. But that also means he has nowhere to hide.  
Except maybe behind his initials. 

Sean catches the ball when Sean lobs it back.  
They've got the same name, but when he thinks about it, their initials are the same. Sean Manaea — SM. Sean Murphy— SM. That's how he'd hide. It'd be easy, on paper. Names are just names. Sure, Sean is brown and Sean is white and Sean is taller and a pitcher and Sean is ginger and a catcher but, on paper, it would be easy. On paper.  
They're not that different. They're lobbing the ball at each other in the same long motion. Like mirrored images of each other. Sean, to Sean, to Sean. So in some ways, in name ways, they're the same. 

When it comes to the two of them exchanging ball trajectories, this could be anywhere, really. This could be anywhere but Arizona in February. This could be Oakland Coliseum and the two of them could be on the field and the noise could be deafening and Sean could hear his heart pounding against his temples.  
It's only different because the name is different— but in the end, every place Sean has ever tossed a ball is the same, because when he throws it, he might as well be nowhere at all.  
When Sean throws to Sean, it might be the first pitch of the 2019 Wild Card Game or his backyard, the siding, the fields. There's no difference but a few names and a little time. 

From pitcher to catcher this could be, should be a good thing. If you're catching yourself, there's really no risk of a misunderstanding. On paper.  
But there are a lot of people in Sean— via his name— and they don't always agree with each other. So when he throws to himself he might as well be throwing to someone else.  
How's that for a paradox? 

"Hey. I can hear you thinking from here." Sean yells from across their long-throw interval. "What'd I tell you about thinking too much?"

He thinks too much. He gets into his own head. It always happens. He can't help it. He tries to listen to himself too much, to the point where he doesn't know who to listen to anymore. He thinks so hard he tries to fight himself.  
Sean and Sean both know that. 

"I know." He shouts back. "I know, I'm not doing it."

"You trust yourself?"

"I trust myself."

"You trust me?"

"I trust you, man!"

He trusts Sean. He doesn't know if Sean trusts him.  
He doesn't know if anybody on the team trusts him and it's just as well.  
He fucked it all up.

When he was recovering from surgery last year, Sean spent a lot of time with his dad. And they had the time to talk about things.  
On Samoa, the head of the family is responsible for all family members. The more people he can support and protect, the better. Sean can't stop thinking about that.  
A team is like a family.  
And the pitcher is like the head of the family. On paper.  
He took the responsibility and they were counting on him and he didn’t deliver.  
He failed, as a player. He failed as a man.

It’s hard to forget that.  
It’s hard to remind himself to find in himself the confidence he betrayed in others.  
He lobs the ball back to Sean.  
He can feel his muscles rolling on his back and shoulder, distended and comfortable. The ball jumping out of his hand like a slingshot. In those moments he wants to trust himself. In those moments he really is nowhere at all. 

“You’re gonna kill it.” Sean calls out as he steps closer. “Come on. You’re Sean Manaea.”

N’s and E’s and A’s... and his initials.

“You threw a no-hitter. You’re our ace.”

He has to accept that name. That responsibility. The ace. 

“You can do it again. You can do anything anywhere. It’s inside you.”

Anything. Anywhere.  
Sean closes his eyes and he’s back in Oakland, and this time when he throws the ball he doesn’t think of the crowd, or his heart beating. Or who he is, or what he ought to be. He throws the ball and he’s nowhere at all. 

“Alright?”

He can’t tell which Sean is talking now.  
He might as well be talking to himself.

“Yeah.” He hears himself say. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave a comment if you liked it :)


End file.
